Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Booker Book #28: Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, by Roddy Doyle

Paddy Clarke
Ha Ha Ha by
Roddy Doyle (1993) was one of the few Booker prize winners that I had heard of before
this project, so when I told my neighborhood book club about the project, and
they graciously offered to read a book with me, this is one that I suggested.

We
begin the book in medias res: “We were coming down our road. Kevin stopped at a
gate and bashed it with his stick.” Readers slowly glean that the narrator is a
young boy, living somewhere in Ireland, who runs wild with a group of like-minded
boys, shoplifting and playing variations on soccer, but always doing their
homework. They also commit some atrocious acts of violence and cruelty, like
making the narrator’s little brother take a capsule
of lighter fuel in his mouth, and then lighting it. Fortunately, Paddy does become
more aware and compassionate as the book progresses.

Because
narrator Paddy is a child, we don’t really know where he lives, but we know all
about the boys’ turf wars, which are exacerbated by the building of a whole new
suburb around them. The boys play on construction sites as the formerly open spaces
shrink. One of the most interesting aspects of the boys’ play for me was their nascent
curiosity about language. They have two rituals involving language, one in
which they chant new and unfamiliar words, like “trellis” and “substandard.” In
the other, one boy hits the others on the back with a poker, and the curse word
that the smitten boy blurts out becomes his name for the week.

But
back at home, the unspoken conflict driving the book is the deteriorating
relationship between Paddy’s parents. His father oscillates between normal dad
and uncaring martinet, while mom tries to protect the four children. Paddy’s
anxiety has become so fine-tuned to his parents’ moods that he thinks he can control
them, by making a joke, or by staying awake all night. The discord at home leads
Paddy to become dissatisfied with the balance of power in his play group. He discovers
a desire to become closer to his brother – too late. Paddy then wants to run away,
to be emotionally disconnected. But of course, the family structure is out of
his control, and it changes before he can act.

One
of the book club members said that this novel “threw her off balance,” and I agree.
That’s the genius of this book: Doyle is the consummate master of the oft-cited
advice “show, don’t tell.” It’s a tour de force, to write an entire novel in
the pure voice of a child, without the adult voice and the “I later realized…” bleeding
through. Doyle tells us nothing, but shows us everything, through the mixed-up
thoughts of an anxious little boy.